


if you love someone - drabble

by h311agay



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anger, Angst, Drabble, Not Canon Compliant, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h311agay/pseuds/h311agay
Summary: Eddie hates his mother when he finds out that she has been lying to him about his health his entire life - but he hates her even more when she makes the decision to move them to Bangor without consulting Eddie first.Also, this is not based off of just the recent films - it is a complex balance of all the different source materials (which means I include what I want to based off of what I liked or didn't like from each different source. lol)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & The Losers Club, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	if you love someone - drabble

Eddie hated picking up his prescriptions – well, that wasn't entirely true. He enjoyed the rare moments of freedom away from his mother, and tried not to take them for granted, but Doctor Keene always sat Eddie on edge. It had only gotten worse after Beverly told them how she had managed to distract him while they stole supplies to patch Ben up at the beginning of the summer. Now, Eddie couldn’t help but see that same kind of twisted hunger in Doctor Keene’s eyes that he had seen in Bob Gray as the man had loomed over Eddie in the Neibolt House.

So, when Doctor Keene paused, and asked Eddie how old he was, the boy couldn’t help the way his lungs went tight and his throat seemed to close up – an asthma attack? No, just fear. Eddie fought to keep himself from shaking his head clear and swallowed, cautiously eyeing Doctor Keene from across the counter. “Thirteen,” he answered, “Fourteen in November.”

The man pursed his lips together in thought, looking over Eddie, and it took everything in Eddie’s power to not cower away. “You’re old enough then,” Doctor Keene said with a nod, before waving for Eddie to follow him. “Come on, boy,” he said, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He began toward the office in the back of the pharmacy. Eddie hesitated, heart beating faster than a mouse’s, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, drying it out and making him choke. He felt his breath barely making its way through his lungs and he was just faintly aware he was beginning to wheeze.

Doctor Keene turned to face Eddie again, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “Well, come on, Eddie. I’m not gonna bite you.”

  
  


He almost crashed as he sped down the hillside leading to the Barrens on his bike. A whirlwind of emotions was surging through him, anger so hot and strong he was seeing black at the edge of his vision. Disbelief so palatable it almost made him feel numb. Hurt, like he had never truly felt before – betrayal so deep it felt like when he had broken his arm, and almost as if to drive the point home, he felt the bone there ache where the break happened.

He heard someone shout as his bike broke through the last of the bushes and branches, bringing him to the clearing where their dam and clubhouse resided. He practically threw himself off of his bike, and it continued forward without him for a few more feet before crashing into a tree and falling to the ground. “It’s all bullshit!” He yelled, throwing his hands into the air. He barely noticed the loud look the Losers were exchanging with each other.

“Eds –”

“IT’S ALL BULLSHIT!” Eddie screamed louder, tearing at the zipper on his fanny pack and trying to pull out his inhaler. He was pacing so furiously, he wouldn’t be surprised to find a groove in the ground later.

“Eddie –”

“Shut the _fuck up!_ ” Eddie snarled, throwing his inhaler into the pool of water they had built a few months back. “Placebos,” he spat. “Do you know what a placebo is?” He asked his friends, but he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, stomping across the ground so hard it sent waves up his legs. “Bullshit! That’s what a placebo is. It’s all lies. LIES!” He reached into the bag on his hip again and snatched out the organizer that held the plethora of medication his mother insisted he needed.

“Eddie, calm down,” Beverly said, taking a step toward him. “You’re talking way too – woah!” She jumped back when Eddie screamed and threw the organizer on the ground, breaking it open and sending pills scattering across the dirt.

“FUCK!” Eddie started to unbuckle his fanny pack, and pulled his arm back so he could launch whatever remained in it into the water, but Richie grabbed him by the shoulders and spun Eddie around to face him. His eyes were big and wide with concern behind those huge glasses.

“Eds, calm down. Just breathe.”

“I’m not having a fucking asthma attack,” he snapped at Richie, but he didn’t shove him away, even when he felt Richie’s fingers on his shoulders dig in a little deeper.

“Okay,” Richie said, “But you’re wheezing like you’re having one and you just threw all your shit into the water. So, if you _do_ end up needing your inhaler, you are shit out of luck, my friend. And I really don’t think your mom will appreciate –”

“ _Fuck_ my mom,” Eddie said, face twisting into a deep scowl as a fresh wave of anger washed over him.

Richie’s mouth turned up, and a light filled his eyes. Eddie was already rolling his eyes in reflex to the words that were about to leave Richie’s mouth. “I’ve told you before that I’m already –”

“Yeah, yeah, sex joke about my mom, Richie,” Eddie interrupted. “So fucking funny, gets me every time. But I’m actually, like, really fucking furious at her right now – like, I’m actually thinking I should go do that thing where you emancipate yourself. Is that the word? Stan, is that the word?” He paused for a moment, only long enough to hear Stan’s flat ‘yes’ in response to his question. Richie’s lips were pressed together like he was going to speak, but Eddie beat him to it.

“You wanna know what Doctor Keene told me? He told me my mother is insistent that I’m sick, despite multiple doctors telling her I’m healthy. That - that the medicine she gives me is actually more likely to harm me in the long run. Like fucking liver and kidney damage! I could die from liver failure! Do you – do you even know what happens when your liver fails? You - you turn y-yellow and even l-like your _eyes_ turn yellow and your liver _poisons_ you, like, your blood turns toxic and you _die_.” He thought of Bob Gray’s pallid skin and yellow eyes, and his stomach churned.

He sucked in a desperate breath and Richie said his name again, soft and calm. Eddie closed his eyes and just focused on breathing. He was actually beginning to regret throwing his inhaler into the water. His lungs were starting to burn and tears were pricking at his eyes.

“Just breathe, Eds. Calm down and then tell us what happened. You’re talking way too fast and you’re getting all worked up. We’re here; it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together, but you have _got_ to breathe, man. You’re gonna pass out.”

Richie was right, _god_ , Eddie hated when Richie was right. Why was Richie the voice of reason right now? Eddie was supposed to be the voice of reason. Or Stan, or Mike, because they were the only three with any shred of common sense. Even Bill – who they all looked up to and admired dearly – wasn't their voice of reason. He was impulsive and didn't think things through, and it usually took the other Losers to get him to stop and actually make a plan. Beverly was sometimes trusted, but if you throw her and Richie together, she could be just as senseless as Richie. Eddie supposed you could usually count on Ben to be sensible, but he was easily swayed by Beverly or Bill. But when it was Richie who held onto Eddie's shoulders and had to reason with him, it always made Eddie feel like his world was off kilter.

Richie was supposed to make him laugh, to make him roll his eyes and groan. Something had changed with Richie over the summer, after the Neibolt House, after Bob Gray, after Henry Bowers. After the seven of them had been the ones to stop the rash of killings that had started before school had let out. Richie had grown up; they all had, but Richie had grown up in a way Eddie couldn't explain.

Eddie reached up and held onto Richie's wrists tightly. They stood there like that for a while until Eddie could breathe without feeling like he was inhaling smoke. Richie slid his hands down Eddie's arms until they were both grasping the others' wrists. "Come sit down. Anyone got water with them?" He asked as he led Eddie over to the side of the dam. They sat down on the hard packed dirt there, and Eddie let go of Richie's wrists. Richie gave him a small squeeze before letting go of him and reaching up for a water bottle Stan was passing over. Richie handed it to Eddie, and Eddie took it, pausing before he took a drink. 

"Okay, so what happened with Doctor Keene and your mother?"

Eddie sucked in a shaky breath and fiddled with the water bottle in his hands. "Keene told me that my mother has been pressuring my doctors into writing me prescriptions for medication I _don't_ need," he said, voice rising some, but he caught himself when Richie reached behind him and started to rub his back. "Most of them are placebos – fake medicine – but some of it is the real stuff. Stuff I don't actually need to be taking, and that if I _keep_ taking, can actually end up making me sick as I get older. He said he thinks she has," he paused, trying to remember what Doctor Keene had said. "I c-can't remember," he admitted. "But it's like th-this psy-psychological th-thing –"

"Alright, B-b-bill," Richie said, pressing against Eddie's side, "you're getting all worked up again."

Eddie grit his teeth and elbowed Richie slightly, "You're such an asshole."

"You love me."

Eddie sighed, reaching up to run his hand down his face. "Some psychological disorder that makes her want to take care of me, but like, in a fucked up way. She wants me to be weak and sick so she can coddle me, and so I'm always dependent on her."

"That's fucked up, yeah," Richie agreed. "So you're going to get emancipated? What does that mean?"

"It's like a divorce from your parents," Stan answered for Eddie as Eddie took another sip of water. "If you get approved to emancipate yourself from your parent, you can choose to go live with another family member, or find a place of your own. You're completely independent from your parent."

"The only family I have are my aunts," Eddie said bitterly. "They're not like her, but they're not going to keep her away from me, either. Fuck," he said, pressing the heel of his palm against the bridge of his nose. "Guys, this is like really fucked up. I don't have asthma," he said. "Doctor Keene says he thinks it’s anxiety. Induced by her coddling. That if she had just let me be a normal, healthy kid, I wouldn't be like this." He could feel his chest start to heave again. "But I don't know how stop myself from getting like this and I actually do feel like I need my inhaler but it's fucking ruined and just fucking battery acid water and how do I even begin to talk to my mom about this?"

"You think that's a good idea?" Beverly asked. "I mean, no offense, but your mom is kind of nutty."

Eddie snorted, "None taken." He sighed again, breath finally evening out again. "Well, _yeah_ I'm going to confront her," he replied. "She's going to try and make me keep taking the medicine and I'm not going to take it anymore."

"Do you really think you could get emancipated?" Ben asked, and Eddie's stomach churned. 

"I don't know. I don't want to live with my aunts, but I'm not even fourteen yet. If I wanted my own place, I'd have to drop out of school and find a job and then I'll just end up stuck here in Derry forever and I don't want to be here in Derry forever and –"

"Breathe," Richie said, gripping Eddie's shoulder with the hand that had been on his back.

  
  
  


In the end, Beverly had been the one who was emancipated. The first of them to leave Derry – she had moved to Portland to live with her aunt there, and they exchanged phone numbers and addresses. They stayed in touch, and Eddie missed her like he was missing a limb, and he had known what it was like to have his arm rendered useless, so he knew what that loss of Beverly felt like. He knew the others had felt it, too.

It was springtime of their seventh grade year when Bill moved, just shortly after the one year anniversary of Georgie's death. They all cried and held Bill, but later that night, after he was gone, Eddie and Richie had clung to each other like their lives depended on it after Richie had snuck through Eddie's window.

The two of them had always gravitated toward the other, but after Ben moved at the beginning of the summer, the wound of Bill's loss still so fresh, the two of them became practically attached at the hip. Sonia had been especially displeased by this, but it had only resulted in another fight between her and Eddie, the result of which was Eddie telling her that she had no right to dictate his life, not after having spent years denying him a childhood and trying to medicate him into complacency. 

When Stan's father decided to move after their synagogue was vandalized, Richie had broken down for weeks. Eddie spent a lot of time in Richie's room, sitting on the edge of his bed, hand on Richie's back, making gentle sounds while Richie cried. When he'd go home for dinner with his mother, he'd call Mike and update him on Richie. Mike would update the others. They made plans to hang out – always tentative plans, because if Richie wouldn't leave his house, Eddie would stay there with him. Eventually, Richie agreed to leave his room, and then the three of them spent all their free time together.

They were a practically inseparable trio; they wrote their letters to the other Losers together, and sent them together. They'd hole up in Richie's room and hog the phone for hour long phone calls to their friends on the weekends.

When Eddie came home one day to a sold sign in his front yard, it felt like he was walking through fog. He practically stumbled into the house where his mother was standing in the hallway, dictating packers and movers. Eddie could feel his pulse in his neck, beating hard and rapid like a rabbit's. "Mommy?" He said, voice small and distant in his own ears.

"Oh, Eddiebear!" She said, walking toward him, her arms open like she was about to swarm him with a hug. He backed away, twitching and eyeing her nervously.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"The packers just started on your room, Eddiebear. They shouldn't take too long, and when they're done packing up the whole house –"

Eddie was pushing past her, heart loud and frantic in his head. "No," he said. "No, no, no." He flew into his room, balling his fists up angrily. "Get out of my room!" He yelled at the workers, who jumped in surprise and looked around hesitantly. "Get out!" He said, slamming his fist on the wall. "Get the fuck out of my room!"

The movers looked at each other before shrugging their shoulders and left Eddie’s room. Sonia was coming up the stairs, Eddie could hear her heavy footfalls. He grabbed the nearest box and tore it open, throwing his stuff out of it and onto the floor at a frantic pace.

“Eddiebear,” Sonia said from the doorway, pausing to suck in wet breaths. He could hear the tears in her voice, but he was immune to them now. “Eddiebear, you’re scaring me. This is for you. We’re going to move to Bangor and you’re going to get a fresh start. You can spend the last two years of high school surrounded by respectable people and –”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, clutching a shirt in his hands, a shirt that wasn’t his. It was one of Richie’s worn out printed shirts, with the words _Make Love Not War_ across it. “Just shut up.”

“Eddiebear –”

“ _Why_ didn’t you tell me?” He heard his voice crack and he brought the shirt up to his face to hide behind it. It still smelled like Richie, like his body wash and faintly of the cigarettes he would smoke in secret. 

“I thought I’d surprise you,” she answered, voice filling with hurt, but it only made Eddie more angry.

“Surprise me? _Surprise me?_ ” He let out a bitter chuckle and shook his head. “Surprise me with the fact that you want to move me to Bangor _tonight?_ Without giving me the chance to say goodbye to my friends? Without even _asking_ me if I wanted to do this? Newsflash, Sonia, I _don’t want this_.” He saw her flinch when he said her name.

“Eddiebear –”

“I’m getting my friends,” he said firmly, “And not a single other person will step foot into this room until I get back, and God help you, Sonia, if I see a single item of mine is not left exactly the way it is now when I get back, I will unleash fury onto you like you can’t even fucking imagine.”

She blinked at him, taking a step back, eyes growing watery. “Eddie, you can’t talk to me like that!”

“I can talk to you however the fuck I want, _Sonia_! You have actively been trying to destroy my life since Dad died!”

“I’m trying to _protect_ you!” She shrieked, face turning red with emotion. “You’re fragile, Eddie! Don’t you remember how those hooligans caused you to break an arm?”

Eddie felt his chest heave. He felt wild and unhinged. Violent – like when he and his friends had gone into the Neibolt House again at the end of the summer after Beverly had gone missing. They beat him bloody and left him in the basement to die, something that weighed heavy on their souls, or at least Eddie’s, but he would have done it again in a heartbeat. For any of his friends. To stand there and listen to her try and deflect her mistakes onto his friends fueled Eddie with that rage that was so familiar.

“My arm got broken by Robert Gray, and you fucking _know_ that! The one time I had _actually been in danger_ ,” he said, sucking in a breath, trying to keep himself from going over there and shoving her. “And you didn’t believe me!”

“Eddiebear,” she said, voice wavering, “Robert Gray was –”

“WAS KIDNAPPING AND TORTURING CHILDREN! And none of you listened when we tried to tell you! I was almost one of those kids, and you blamed the broken arm on my friends instead of on the man who actually did it! You didn’t do _anything_ to protect me, _or_ my friends!”

“I protected you by keeping you home!”

“No! You didn’t! You didn’t tell the cops about Bob Gray or how Henry Bowers was helping him! You didn’t tell them where he was! You didn’t do _anything_. You let him get Beverly!” He stormed over to her, squaring his shoulders back and mustering up the most deadly look he could. “There’s one reason Robert Gray stopped killing all those kids and Henry confessed,” Eddie said, voice dark and low. “And I think you know why the cops found Bob’s corpse in the basement of the Neibolt House, and I think you know who helped make him a corpse.”

Sonia’s bottom lip trembled, and she stared down at her son with frightful eyes.

“I’m going and getting my friends, and if anything else in my room has been touched, I’ll fucking leave. I’ll leave and you will never ever see me again, do you understand that? I will move to Bangor with you _only_ because I feel bad for you and because I know that I will graduate in two years and then I will leave and never look back. I will give you two more years with me, Sonia, and then I will be gone and it is _entirely_ your fault. But I am getting my friends and _we_ will pack up the rest of my stuff.”

  
  


Mike and Richie were sitting on the floor next to Eddie as he put the last of his stuff into the final box. Bundled up in his lap was Richie’s shirt, which he held tightly for a moment, before holding it out to Richie with shaking hands. “Here,” he said, voice cracking some. “This is yours.”

Richie took it carefully, looking at the words on it before he shook his head and handed it back, “No, Eds, you keep it.”

Eddie took it back, before his fists curled up into the fabric of the shirt again, and he curled up into himself, a small sob breaking from his chest. He buried his face into the shirt as he cried, and he felt Richie and Mike wrap their arms around him, holding him tightly.

“It’ll be okay, Eddie,” Mike said, his voice calm and gentle, but Eddie could hear that he was sad, too. “As soon as you get to Bangor, call one of us. You got our numbers and our addresses. This isn’t goodbye forever, remember? We still talk to everyone else.”

“I know,” Eddie said, “I know. I just –” his voice caught and their holds on him tightened. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much.”

They helped take the remaining stuff down and out of the house, handing it off to the movers to be packed away into the moving truck. Sonia was standing by the car, watching the three boys with an uneasy expression. Eddie spent a long time hugging Mike; he was afraid that when he pulled away to go hug Richie, he’d never be able to let go of Richie, because letting go of Richie meant that it would be time to leave, and he didn’t want to leave. Finally, Mike pulled back, gently pressing the side of his head to Eddie’s before he parted from the hug entirely. “We love you, man,” he said, patting his shoulder.

Eddie sucked in a wet breath when he looked over at Richie, whose expression was grave and serious, heartbreak evident in his eyes. Eddie threw himself at Richie, squeezing his eyes shut and clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he cried into Richie’s neck. Richie held him back just as tightly, pressing his own face into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s heart felt like it was shattering, the ache so deep it made him want to crumple onto the ground. “Fuck, Eds,” Richie said, voice thick with tears. “Fuck. Please,” he said, curling his fingers into Eddie’s waist where his hands rested. “ _Please_ ,” he said, shaking just as hard against Eddie as Eddie was against him. “Please, Eds, don’t go,” Richie choked.

“I gotta,” Eddie said, voice wavering and desperate. He tried to peel himself away from Richie, but the other clung to him, and Mike had to step in to separate them. “I’m sorry,” Eddie said, tears streaming down his face. He reached up and wiped them away, but it was a fruitless endeavor; more tears just took their places. “I have to go now,” he said. “I’ll call as soon as we get the phone hooked up, okay? I’ll go find a payphone if I have to, and I’ll send my address and it’ll all be okay.” He was speaking fast, chest tight, and this was the closest he had gotten to wishing he had his inhaler still in years – since he’d tossed the last one into the water.

“I love you guys,” he said, taking each of their hands into his own and squeezing tightly. “So much.” He felt Mikey squeeze back, but Richie was sobbing into their friend’s neck and didn’t squeeze back, but when Eddie tried to pull away, Richie resisted momentarily, before dissolving into worse sobs, wrapping his arms around Mike and releasing Eddie.

Eddie walked to the car in a fog, sniffling as he did so. He got into the passenger seat and buckled himself in, grabbing Richie’s shirt from the dashboard where he had set it and pulled it close to his chest. Sonia started the car and pulled away – the silence between them thick and tense. Eddie watched his friends begin to grow smaller in the mirror on the side of the car, and his heart broke when he saw Richie break from Mike’s arms and start running after their car.

“Stop,” he said, voice cracking.

“What? Eddie, no, we need to get going, honey.”

“I said stop the car!” He said, unbuckling himself and reaching for the lock. “Stop!”

Sonia slammed on the breaks as Eddie pushed his door open, and he stumbled from the momentum slightly as he got out of the car. Richie was still running toward them, and Eddie broke out into a sprint to close the distance between them. As he reached Richie, he held his arms out, pulling the taller man into another desperate hug.

“Richie,” he said, kissing the side of his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you,” he said, and this time, the words carried a different meaning.

“I love you, too,” Richie gasped into Eddie’s hair. “Please, don’t go.”

Eddie pulled away, and cupped Richie’s face, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s not forever, Rich,” he said. “I promise, it’s not forever.” There was a moment of hesitation from both of them, but then Eddie swallowed his fear and pressed his mouth against Richie’s. He wanted to melt into the kiss when Richie pressed back, pulling Eddie as close as possible to him. “I promise,” he said again when they parted. “I’ve got to go now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Richie. I’ll call you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Okay,” Richie said, but he still held onto Eddie desperately. 

“I love you,” he said, as he slowly began to pull away again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I love you, Eddie. I’ve always loved you.”

“Me, too, Richie. Always.”

Their fingertips brushed past lightly, and with that, Eddie raced back toward the car before his resolve crumpled entirely. Sonia was gripping the wheel tightly, her face twisted in disgust.

“What was that?” She hissed.

“Shut up,” Eddie said as he buckled in again, twisting Richie’s shirt in his hands. “Shut up and drive.”

“Eddiebear –”

“Shut up! I fucking hate you,” he snapped. “Just fucking drive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Was thinking about turning this into a multichaptered fic, so please let me know how'd y'all would feel about me exploring this idea some more. It would include some more of what actually happened in the summer of 1989, and what happens to Eddie after he and his mother move. Right now this was just written as a disjointed drabble because the idea was bouncing around inside of my skull.


End file.
